Put Your Lights Out
by Captain L
Summary: A history of Reno. This is a continuation of what appeared in Klept0maniac0's 'Put Your Lights On,' chapter 89.
1. Aftershock

Captain L / Super Lizard

Author's Note: This is a continuation of a story arc first began in my guest chapter for klept0. This is a history of Reno as I dreamed it—there isn't much cannon on the subject, so most of this is my creation. The character of Toriko belongs solely to klept0 and is used with written permission. Thanks, Cat.

Rated T for language and violence.

Chapter One: Aftershocks

The next morning, Toriko woke early. She rolled to her feet gracefully and pulled her blankets into some semblance of order, then flopped over at the waist, popping two of her vertebrae and stretching all the way out. Satisfied with her abbreviated morning stretch and emboldened by her father's absence, she padded softly out of her room and went in search of breakfast. On her way past the room shared by the Turks, she paused. In a fit of empathy, her mood fell and she shivered a bit. Wishing she were callous enough to just ignore it and go to breakfast, Toriko sighed a long-suffering sigh and studied the door. She could sense that, out of the three, only Reno and Rude were still in the room. _Tseng will have accompanied the vice president to breakfast and to attend to Lord Godo. _

She slid the door open, being sure to make a little noise so not to startle the Turks, and entered, closing the door after her.

Rude was sitting with his back to the wall, next to Reno's pile of blankets. The younger Turk was lying down, staring blankly at the ceiling with such a look of forlorn despair that Toriko's heart bled. He would occasionally sigh a thin, shallow sigh.

Toriko walked over and sat to Reno's side, opposite Rude.

Rude looked over at her sideways, as if unable to comprehend her presence. "Shouldn't you be at breakfast?"

Toriko looked down at Reno.

Rude followed her gaze, then nodded, understanding. "Don't worry too much about Reno. He's stronger than he looks. He's just… been through a lot. We have to wait for him. He'll come back when he's ready."

She looked up at him questioningly.

"I couldn't tell you if I wanted," he answered her unasked question. "For one thing, it's not my place. For another, I don't know everything. Just enough."

Toriko looked away. "Would you want to know?"

Rude wrinkled his eyebrows.

"If you had the chance—if I could show you, then, would you want to know everything?" she pressed.

He looked away, first at his feet, then at Reno. Finally, after a good long stare, he nodded once. Then, as an afterthought, he added, "You ask a lot of strange things."

In any other context, Toriko would have smirked. "I'm a little strange."

Rude nodded again—not an accusation, a jibe, or with amusement, but simply a nod to confirm a fact.

Toriko took Reno's right hand in hers, then reached across to Rude. "If you want to stop, let go."

He scrunched his eyebrows together more tightly; he took her tiny hand—

-and was immediately seized by a sense of weakness so complete that he couldn't move. Bleeps and bright lights surrounded him, and his eyesight was foggy and limited.

"He's so tiny,"he heard a voice above him coo. A woman in scrubs was leaning over the plastic cover of his tiny environment; another stood nearby with a clipboard.

"He's way early. His chart says he's around seven weeks premature."

"_Seven?_" the first woman's voice squeaked.

_What are we seeing?_ Rude inquired, in awe.

_Reno's memories. _

_No way does Reno remember back this far. He rarely remembers where he puts his keys. I don't even think he remembers his own phone number._

Toriko mentally giggled. _The human brain keeps a record of _everything_ of which it has input. But it has a tendency to lose access to its own storage, due to disuse, trauma, or the breakdown of neuron pathways._

_Where the hell did you learn all of this? You're twelve._

_I get bored easily. I read. A lot._

"Seven," the second woman confirmed, "and his momma smoked everything under the sun, it looks like. She was addicted to speed, too."

The first woman put her hand in the incubator glove and played with Reno's tiny hand. "Was?"

"The chart says his mother is deceased. She must've died soon after he was born." The second woman hung the chart at the end of the incubator cart. "Don't get too attached. I don't think he's going to make it."

The first woman was silent for a moment, still playing with Reno's hand. "Poor baby."

"Come on, Sally. Don't give him that look, don't play with him, don't anything. You'll be sorry later. Let's go get coffee or something, our shift starts soon."

Sally, the second woman, cooed at Reno again, then stood up and wandered away with the first woman.

_What a bitch._

_Suddenly, the big bad Turk has a heart? _Toriko chided.

_I'm a Turk. She's a nurse._

_Doctors and nurses see death as much as you do, _she pointed out.

_...He's so helpless._

Toriko mentally nodded, then tore Rude away from the earliest memory. She flipped through Reno's brain like a magazine, scanning for what seemed most important. _His father took him home after awhile. Didn't know what to do with him._

They saw the world from the bottom of a sorry-looking used crib. A worn blanket divided the too-tiny child from the drafts coming from the cracked window above the crib. Reno's father loomed above him, a large, unkempt man with a bad haircut and a tattered T-shirt. A cigarette hung from his lips as he contemplated the infant.

Rude growled in Toriko's mind.

"Tough little bastard, aren't you," he mused, completely without malice. "You lived. They didn't think you were going to live. _I _didn't think you were going to live. Showed them, though, didn't you, Reno?"

Reno stirred under his blanket and stared listlessly at his father.

"Attaboy, Reno, attaboy. You gonna grow big and strong, make your daddy proud. Make your momma proud, too." Reno's father hunched over the crib and pulled the blanket more securely around him. "Laurie. Your momma's name was Laurie, Reno. Don't you forget her. She went through hell, having you, and now she's dead. You killed her, you know. You better make up for it. You better be worth your momma's life." He stroked the infant's soft, colourless hair. "You better be worth it. 'Cause I sure as hell don't know how I'm going to pay all those doctor's bills. Crackfiend before you were born, I'll be damned. You're gonna show them, though, right Reno. You're gonna be a doctor or a lawyer or the ruler of the whole fuckin' world, and you're gonna go back to those doctors and tell them exactly where to stick their diagnosis-es, dammit."

Reno sighed and leaned into his father's touch, enjoying the warmth of the hand.

His father paused, allowing Reno to react to him. "Yeah." He gazed at his son for a moment. "Gotcher momma's eyes already." He stared for a long moment, then nodded to himself. "Yeah. You'll show 'em." He wandered away from the crib and into the ajoining room—the kitchen—and retrieved a beer from the refridgerator. He then wandered to the nearby living room and clicked on the television. Rude could hear the sounds of the evening news.


	2. Words

Chapter Two: Words

-----

_Fucker. _Rude growled dangerously. _Stupid, fat, ugly fucker._

_Long time ago, _Toriko told him. _Long time ago. I'm sure Reno has gotten over it._

The sheer anger and protectiveness rolling off of Rude gave Toriko a little shock. _He never has. Not even the little things. You would never believe._

_He doesn't seem too angry._

_No, just scared shitless,_ Rude spat. _I shoulda killed the motherfucker sooner._

_…Sooner?_

_…_

_Okay. I can tell you don't want to talk about it. You know, _she added after a moment, _Reno doesn't look anything like his father. He looks more like his mother. I don't think he's that man's son at all._

_How do you know what his mother looks like? I don't even think Reno knows._

_He does. He'll never forget._

Rude knew that they were a few years later, though he barely felt the difference in Reno's physical memory. Reno was still diminutive, physically weak, and listless. And what's more, he was still lying in the same crib under the same blanket—but the railing had been ripped off to create a sort of raised bed. Not that the lack of railing mattered; Reno was still too small to climb up to or down from the bed safely.

Reno's father came into the room and squatted next to the bed. "You're two and a half," he announced without preamble.

Reno nodded and sucked his thumb.

"But you don't talk yet. Your aunt Angela says you should be making sentences by now. Are you stupid or something?"

Reno pushed himself to sit up, and gazed at his father blankly.

"You have no idea what I'm saying, do you. Fucking figures." He stood up and continued to study his son. He pointed at himself and stated, "Daddy. Dah-dee. Can you say that?"

Reno pulled his thumb out of his mouth, but didn't say anything.

"Dah-dee. Dah—oh forget it. I feel like a fuckin moron."

As he turned to walk away, Reno's thin, unused voice squeaked, "Dah-dee."

Reno's father froze, and turned to look at him. He pointed at himself again.

"Daddy," Reno tried again.

"Yes!" Reno's father boomed. "That's right! That's right, Reno!" He moved over to the crib and knelt down, pointing at Reno. "Ree-noh. Reno."

He pointed at himself. "Reno."

"Yes, yes! That's right! That's your name, you little bastard! Reno!"

Reno bounced excitedly, but did not clap his hands or move. "Reno. Name."

"Yes. Say, 'My name is Reno.' 'My name is Reno.'"

"My name… Reno."

"Close enough!" Reno's father swept him up and stood. Reno clung to the man's unwashed T-shirt, and smiled widely enough to split his tiny face in two. "Daddy."

He pointed at the window. "Window."

"Winnow."

"That's right, that's right! Look, 'kitchen.'"

"Kishen."

"Yeah, yeah!" Reno's father chuckled and bounced him excitedly. "Refridgerator."

Reno blinked at him, completely crestfallen.

"Okay, maybe that word is a bit big. Uh… door. Front door."

"Fwon dawr."

"Tee. Tuh. Tee sound. Tuh."

"Huh?"

"Front."

"Fwan-tuh."

"…okay, I can dig it. Living room."

"Libbing woom."

"Sure, right! TV." He pointed at the television.

"TeeVee," Reno proclaimed triumphantly. He giggled excitedly.

"Hey, Reno, what's that over there!"

"Winnow!"

"Yeah! And what's that!"

"Fwan-tuh dawr."

"Yes, yes, exactly right! Reno, you're a mother-fuckin genius!"

Reno squealed with delight as his father dashed from room to room, teaching him words. "Daddy's room."

"Daddy's woom."

"Bed."

"Bed."

"Blanket."

"Blay-ken."

"No, no, Tee sound. Tuh. Blanke-tuh."

"Blay-ken-tuh."

"Whatever. Photo."

"Fow-tow."

"Right. Look, there's… there's mommy, Reno." Reno's father sat on the bed, situating the child on his lap. He reached over to the picture frame on the cluttered nightstand, and held it in one hand. "That's mommy. That's Laurie. See?"

Reno gazed at the photo in awe. He slowly brought his hands over the glass, as if trying to touch his mother. "…mommy?"

"Yes. That's mommy. Isn't she beautiful? Red hair, just like you. Just like you, Reno. Same eyes."

"jus like Reno. Reno's mommy."

"That's right. She had to go away, Reno."

"Why?" he asked quietly.

"She had to go away because of you. Having you was too much for her. All the drugs, and then you. You made her go away." Reno's father's tone had turned from excited to decidedly dark. "Before you were born, you lived in your mommy's tummy, and you sucked all the life out of her so you could grow. She couldn't even survive, let alone make you big and strong. That's why you're so fucking weak, Reno. There just wasn't any more from your mommy that you could take from her." His grip on his son became a little too tight. He shook with anger and sorrow. "You made mommy go away. And she left you to look after. Hospital bills, and your sorry ass."

"Daddy," Reno mewled quietly, tapping his hands open-palmed on his father's arm.

Rude growled more fiercely at the scene, hopelessly ineffective.

"You're all that's left of your mommy, Reno, and I'm sure she loves you very much." Reno's father loosened his grip on him and changed the gesture to a hug. "Your mommy loves you, Reno. Just like I loved her."

Reno froze.

_This is the first time his father actually hugged him, _Rude observed. In the world outside of Reno's memories, Rude physically shook with anger and disgust. Toriko squeezed his hand.

Reno tentatively wrapped his tiny arms around his father's neck and hugged him back. "Reno loves mommy, too."

"Good, Reno. Good." Reno's father stood up and carried him back to the crib, placing him on the plastic-coated mattress and straightening up, heading back to the kitchen for a beer over which to angst about his wife.

"Daddy?" Reno squeaked.

"What?"

"Reno loves daddy."

The man turned and stared at the boy for a moment, then shook his head quietly and left the room.

_FUCKER, _Rude spat.

Reno stared at the doorway for a moment, then slumped back to the mat; he curled up in a little ball and hugged himself, feeling completely deserted. "Reno loves daddy," he whispered to himself. "Daddy loves Mommy. Mommy loves Reno." He silently wept. "Mommy went away," he whispered. "Reno made mommy go away. No daddy loves Reno."

_If I hadn't already killed the bastard, I'd—_

_Calm down. If I knew you were going to freak out, I never would have done this._

_But he—_

_Do I need to turn this flashback around and take us home?_

_…No._

_Okay. Reno knows what his mother looks like. _ Toriko scanned through the next few years. _His aunt Angela wasn't so bad. She was his father's sister. It doesn't seem like his mother's family had much to do with him at all._


	3. Aunt Angela

Chapter Three: Aunt Angela

------

Reno fell extremely ill around the age of six, somewhere during first grade. Reno's father took him out of school and brought him home, and deposited him unceremoniously on the sofa. He threw a blanket over him and went to the kitchen.

Rude and Toriko could hear the telephone conversation behind them. "Angela, it's Paul. Yeah. The kid is sick. I don't know what to do with him. You better come over. … You know I can't afford any more doctors' bills; I'm still paying the ones from when he was born. … Goddamnit, Angela, you're a nurse; just tell me what I'm supposed to do. Chicken soup or some shit, right? …The school nurse says he's got a fever and a cough. He's breathing kinda funny. …Okay. I'll be here." The telephone clicked.

Reno's father wandered back into the living room and crossed his arms in front of him. "How you feeling, kid?"

Reno's memory swam, unable to focus on anything in particular. His father's voice echoed meaninglessly in his ears. The entire world seemed unimportant. He groaned softly.

"Yeah, I've had days like that. You… want some water or something?"

Reno nodded.

"Okay. That, I can do."

Paul disappeared into the kitchen, then appeared again with a plastic cup full of water. He knelt in front of Reno and showed him the cup. "Here."

Reno didn't move. He squinted at his father and inhaled, but couldn't make himself move.

Paul sighed, irritated; he slid his free hand under his son's shoulder and pushed him up to sit.

Reno grabbed his father's forearm to balance himself, and his eyes widened at the sudden movement. His father pressed the cup to his lips, and he drank slowly. After a moment or so, he stopped to cough. Paul put the cup on the end table and patted him on the back softly. Reno instinctually leaned forward and extended his arms a little, hoping for a hug. Instead, Paul caught his arms and helped him lie down again. He returned to the kitchen with the cup, came back with two bottles of beer, and rearranged Reno so that he could sit on the couch with the child's head in his lap. He shoved a smelly throw pillow under Reno's head, then turned on the television and started on his first beer.

Reno made no movement aside from the occasional sigh or cough. His vision floated in and out of focus, and his memory abbreviated minutes or hours into an eternity or seconds. He drifted in and out of consciousness, but seemed contented to be near his father. He drifted back into consciousness as a familiar face hovered in view.

"Reno?" Angela knelt in front of the sofa, playing with his hair. His father had removed himself from the sofa at some point and was standing at the front door, waiting for some kind of order from his sister.

"Hm…?"

"How are you feeling?"

"Hn…" he sighed.

"He's feverish." She dug in the bag at her side and pulled out a thermometer, popped a cover on it, and stuck it in his ear. Reno made a disconcerted noise as she hit a button, then removed it and checked it. "Holy hell. Reno, honey, sit up. Paul, I need you to run a bath. Cold tap."

"Okay," he complied, moving toward the only bathroom in the apartment.

"Auntie Angela's gonna take care of you, okay Reno?" She picked him up gently, and carried him toward the bathroom. She sat him on the toilet as Paul shuffled to get out of the way, and removed his shoes and T-shirt. "Paul, don't you wander off. I need you to put some blankets on Reno's bed and get a bowl of cool water and a washcloth ready."

Again, he complied and wandered off.

"Reno, I want you to stand up, okay? We're gonna get rid of your blue jeans, then you're gonna take a bath, okay?" She helped the boy dispose of his pants, then set him in the cold water.

Reno made a quiet noise of malcontent that might have been a whine, but stayed in the water. He shivered.

"What did you do in school today, Reno?" Angela was digging in her handbag again with one hand, but kept hold of Reno's hand with the other.

"M-maps. Coloured Wutai. T-teacher says they eat raw fish."

"Ew," Angela stuck out her tongue. She produced a pill bottle from her bag and popped the cap off with her thumb, then set it on the tile and selected a single white pill, holding it out to Reno. "This is gonna be gross, but not as gross as raw fish. Do you think you can swallow this for me?"

"'s it?"

"It's medicine to make your fever go down. It will make your head feel better."

Reno stuck out his tongue obediently, but made a face as he swallowed the pill. "Blech."

Angela smiled gently and squeezed his hand. "I know. Tastes bad."

"'s like chalk," Reno mused. He shivered more thoroughly.

"It will start to work soon."

"Reno doesn't feel so good."

"I know, baby, I know," she told him.

"No. Reno feels sick. Reno is going to throw up."

Angela hurriedly snatched up the short plastic garbage can from beside the toilet, and brought it beside the tub. She helped him sit up and lean over the side, patted his back, and held his hair back for him.

Reno retched over the can a couple times, but produced only bile. As he finished, he slumped against the side of the tub and sobbed quietly. "Auntie Angela? Reno is cold."

Angela stroked his hair and helped him sit back in the tub. "I know, but we have to keep you in the tub until your fever goes down, or it may hurt your brain permanently."

"Daddy says Reno is brainy," Reno sighed, staring at nothing and unable to focus. "Daddy says Reno is very smart, but Reno talks funny. Teacher says Reno doesn't grasp the function of first-person pronouns."

Disturbed slightly by the tangent but wanting to distract him from his current situation, Angela encouraged him to keep talking. "Do you?"

"Of course I do."

"But you talk in third-person anyway."

"Other kids are scared of Reno. They stay away if Reno talks in third person. They don't like it when Reno is different, so they stay away. Except for the really mean ones."

Angela put a hand on his forehead to gauge his temperature, and was relieved that he felt significantly cooler. "Are there many really mean kids at your school?"

"There are some." Reno's shivering became slightly more pronounced.

"Do they ever pick fights with you?

"Yeah. But Reno always wins."

She squeezed his hand. "Attaboy, Reno. You're a fighter."

"No," he told her. "No."

She waited for another few moments, until she couldn't stand to watch him shiver anymore. "You can get out of the tub now. I think you'll be okay." Reno sat up, but required Angela's help to get out of the tub. She wrapped him in a towel and carried him back to the main room, where Paul waited with a washcloth and a bowl of water. "Where does he sleep?"

Paul pointed at the dilapidated piece of furniture that used to be a crib.

"Oh, _no way._ Move those blankets to the sofa." She turned on her heel and marched into the living room, setting Reno on the sofa and removing the towel, using it to dry his hair. As Paul draped the blankets over his son, Angela retrieved the bowl and washcloth from the other room. "He cannot sleep under the window like that, especially in the winter time. The draft is awful." She soaked the washcloth, wrung it out, and put it on his forehead.

"Where else am I supposed to put him? It's a one-bedroom apartment. The dining room is the only room I'm not using," Paul defended.

"Put him in your room, then. It's warmer."

"He'll have to sleep on the floor. I'm not putting him in my bed, it might make him a queer or something."

Angela snorted. "Then get him a bed."

Robert scoffed. "Furniture is expensive, woman. I'm not a nurse, like you. I wasn't smart enough to make somethin' outta myself."

"Then quit drinking. If you saved the money that you spend on booze in a month, you could buy a pretty nice bed for your son," Angela snipped, tucking the blankets around Reno.

"Huh. Probly not even my son. He doesn't look a thing like me, and he's smart. Dunno where he gets that from."

She glared daggers at him and retrieved a stethoscope from her bag. "His birth certificate says you're his father. Now. Start. Fucking. Acting like it." She tucked the earpieces in her ears, folded the blankets back, and held the metal circle to Reno's chest, moving periodically. "Reno, what does your cough sound like?"

Reno coughed at her, half-heartedly.

She removed the stethoscope and tucked it back in her bag, then folded the blankets back up and kissed him on the forehead. "Auntie Angela loves you, Reno. I'm going to go outside and talk to your daddy, okay?"

"…put your coat on, 's cold," Reno told her fondly, drifting off to sleep as the fever medication took effect.

"I will," she promised. She stood up, and grabbed Paul's sleeve, dragging him outside. The door closed with a thump, and Reno's memory of that entire week ended.

_I never heard of any Angela, _Rude mused reservedly.

_That's because she died when Reno was eight, _Toriko reported, sifting through more of Reno's memories with a growing feeling of nausea.

_Fuck. This kid just doesn't get a break._

_It looks like his dad took it hard. He started drinking heavily, then._

_Started? _Rude thought, tongue-in-cheek.

_Well. More heavily. He started… he started hitting Reno then, too._

"You're such a little girl, damnit! I thought I had a son."

_Why? _Rude demanded.

_Who knows_, Toriko shrugged. _He was angry, bitter, demoralized, drunk, disaffected, and a complete ass-tard._

_You have some pretty strong language for a twelve-year old._

_And none of it can help me express exactly how much of a rat-fucking thrice-damned asshat this guy is._

_…True. _Rude conceded. _I met Reno when he was eleven._

_Oh?_

_I met him in the hospital when Tseng had me investigate him._

_May I have a look? _Toriko inquired politely.

_…I suppose._

Toriko examined Rude's memory of Reno's father's apartment and of the meeting in the hospital. _I see. He remembers it differently._

_I always thought he didn't remember that day in the hospital._ He paused. _How… how does he remember it?_

_I'll show you. But you should probably see what led up to it._

Flashes of physical pain and the glint of dim lamplight on broken glass made Rude recoil mentally. _ No, I don't want to see that. I… understand._

_Okay. Directly after, then?_


	4. Directly After

Chapter Four: Directly After.

-----

Reno sat on the ground, blood pouring from his nose, his lip, and both his cheekbones. He panted, gripping the carpet with his fingertips, feeling every part of him scream in pain. He stared, wild-eyed, at the still form of his father, who lay bleeding on the ground, unconscious and breathing roughly.

The boy inched forward on his hands and knees, his brain splitting apart with the comprehension of what had just happened and what he should do next. "Run, run, run, he'll be mad when he wakes up, they'll be mad when they catch me," he whispered to himself, but he couldn't make himself move. He kept inching forward, until he was right next to his father. He lowered himself to the ground painfully, embracing his father's still form. "Reno loves you, daddy. Reno loves you. Reno is so sorry. Please be okay." He stood shakily, and limped heavily towards the door. He closed the it carefully behind him.

Grasping the thin metal rail of the entry stairs with his good hand, he hopped down on one foot, one stair at a time, ignoring the shocks of pain from his ribs every time that he landed. He made it to the bottom and leaned on the rail, panting. A moment later, he was moving again. He followed the side alley for as long as he could, then ducked behind some buildings, navigating the slums carefully until he found a warehouse he knew the thugs _didn't _use. At the corner of the road that ran beside it, there stood a blue payphone—he staggered over and dug in his pockets until he found the money he hadn't spent on lunch.

"Hello, emergency services. What is the nature of your emergency?"

"There's an injured man in apartment B, building 201, West 21st street, sector three. He's been beaten badly."

"We're sending someone now. Are you at the scene now? What is your name, young man?"

"I can't… I… Just send someone, please!" he hung up the phone and winced as his knee gave out. He fell back against the payphone, then slid to the ground. Disgusted by the smell of urine and old gum, he forced himself back up on his good leg and staggered back to the warehouse door. He jiggled the doorknob and found it unlocked—much to his relief, as he didn't think he could manage the window. He limped in and closed the door quietly, giving his eyes time to adjust to the dim light.

_The police impound warehouse, _Rude exclaimed mentally. _Damn Reno, I'd have never thought of that._

_That was very clever, _Toriko admitted. _No one would look in the police warehouse for a run-away. Especially if he'd just called the police. And it's too close to his home to be expected._

_That's probably why it took a week to find him._

Reno slept in the backseat of an impounded car, using whatever he could find to mop up the blood from his injuries and to wrap his hand and left leg. He spent most of the week in a great deal of pain, stealing donuts and left-overs from the mini-fridge in the warehouse office. The injury to his chest and the loss of blood took their toll, and the last few days were spent curled up, shivering, coughing up blood, and hallucinating. He would have been found dead, if his residence hadn't been scheduled for the police auction the next Tuesday. A cop had gotten in the car and started it up before he noticed the sick child in the backseat. After a great deal of freaking out, he and another officer transferred him to a squad car and sped to the nearest hospital, lights on and siren blasting. By then, Reno was paranoid, terrified, and delirious. No one could get him to speak; he lashed out at anyone who tried to touch him, and cried pitifully whenever restrained.

_That's how I was when I found him, _Rude confirmed.

Reno's memory of meeting Rude was far different than Rude's memory of meeting Reno. In the sick child's nearly-schizophrenic mind, there was nothing but shapes of darkness in a too-bright environment. Shadows larger than himself approached with unknown weapons or distorted, frightening hands, reaching out to do harm. He fought and he fought and he fought, unable to make sense of his world or what was happening to him. Until a great, solid shadow with shiny eyes and two great, white wings approached him. At first, he had been as afraid of the new shade as he had been of the others. He struggled against the strange force that was holding him down, absolutely certain that this new figure was going to harm him. His fractured mind was still waiting for blows to rain down on him.

The figure knelt next to him for a moment, speaking a language he didn't understand. Then it stood, and turned to leave. Reno was about to relax, when it hesitated and turned again, then produced a strange object from its pocket. The figure knelt again and presented it, and Reno's world of hallucinations shattered, leaving behind a hospital room, a strange man, pain, fear, and a reminder that he may have killed the only person on the planet he loved.

All was pain and silence for a few moments. Reno whimpered as all warmth left him. He suddenly felt the driving need to stop breathing, so he did. He could only stare as the strange man held out his arms—for what? What was this strange man's intention?

Then suddenly his world was all warmth and safety and a strong embrace and the other man's tears in his hair. He leaned into the warmth and wrapped his hands around the starched white shirt, crying and shaking with fear and despair. He wanted so badly for the man hugging him to be his father, for everything to be alright. He wanted the feeling of safety to never stop, but he knew that the stranger would let go and disappear, because he didn't love him—no one loved him, he was just some crack-ho's brat, and now he didn't even have a father. He shook and cried and cried and shook until he fell into the deep slumber of exhaustion, and wanting his daddy.

_I snapped the bastard's neck. _Rude observed. _I… right then… Reno wanted me to be his father?_

_Not exactly… I think he just wished his father did for him what you did then, _Toriko replied quietly.

Rude seemed a little disappointed. _How does a creature exist that still, even after all that, can still love someone that fiercely?_

_Reno's kinda special like that, I guess. _Toriko mentally noted this, remembering to her own encounter with her father—interrupted by Rufus. Probably for the better. _Do I love father like that? I suppose I don't._

_He wanted his father, and I snapped the man's neck. I thought I was doing him a favour._

_You were, _she answered, forwarding through his memories in an attempt to escape the overwhelming anguish of the current scene. _He just didn't know it. He already thought he had killed his father, so the news that his father had been murdered in his hospital bed was more of a comfort that you'll ever know. And you spared him the awkwardness of a child abuse trial, and possibly going back to his father._

_I suppose you're right. _Rude paused, then growled. _And it was so. Fucking. Satisfying. To snap that man's neck. It's probably the only kill I've ever felt good about._

Toriko shifted awkwardly. _Good to know, I guess._ _They… put him in a home?_

_Shinra had him placed in some serious therapy, and that involved a short stay in a facility for disturbed children. Only about six months. Then we put him in the home of a retired Shinra employee so we could keep tabs on him and make sure he got what he needed._

Toriko examined the memory a little more closely. _No… after the asylum… _You _put him in the home of a retired _Turk

_…True. _Rude confirmed.

_You put him in a gun shop._

_Retired Turks can only do so much. And it's not often that Turks live long enough to retire. The man's talents lay in fighting and shooting, so he opened a gun shop after he retired. _

_You put a mentally unstable young man in a gun shop, _Toriko repeated.

_I don't hear any better ideas out of you, missy, _Rude twitched.

_…Gun. Shop._

_Shut up._

The apartment upstairs from the gun shop was small, but warm. Coryel Thomas lived there with his wife; both of them were rough but caring individuals, and Mrs. Thomas declared it her life's work to stick some decent grub to Reno's ribs. Reno had no objections, as Mrs. Thomas's cooking was better than anything he had ever eaten, even if the meal was just a sandwich and chips. Coryel Thomas was blunt, to-the-point, and rarely had time for anything but maintaining the shop. He provided weapons to the Turks and sometimes filled other orders for Shinra.

For the first couple of years, they kicked Reno through the public education system. Reno was smarter than what the system was used to, though, and quickly proved as much to Coryel. Upon delivering straight As and recommendations for college-level courses, Reno proved the system absolutely worthless and earned Coryel's permission to drop out. At the age of fourteen, he spent most of his time hanging around the slums, making friends, making enemies, picking fights, and sometimes doing a little dealing to help out his adoptive family. He felt he had to pull his weight.

Coryel didn't mind, as long as Reno didn't piss off any gangs or actually start taking the drugs he sold, but Mrs. Thomas disapproved—vocally. Eventually, she threatened Coryel with a no-sex strike unless he employed Reno in some other fashion. Coryel folded, and employed him in his gun shop, making deliveries and taking orders. Eventually, Coryel left the main part of the shop's business to Reno, and concentrated on the smithing. Rude, in his periodic check-ups, had been disturbed by this.

_I thought Reno was supposed to be getting an education and applying to colleges and shit. He's a smart kid, he had a lot of potential; he could probably be in the science department, not the Turks._

Toriko nodded. _You know, I never really pegged him as the booksmart type._

_That's cause he's a total asshole sometimes. He's kind of an angry kid._

_He seems to have had just cause._

_I told Coryel to educate him, _Rude insisted.

Coryel _had_ educated him. He trained him in compliance techniques, hand-to-hand combat, how to care for and use a gun, basic fire arm maintenance, mixing, rigging, and applying explosives, laundering money, evading taxes, computer networks, computer hacking, hiding evidence, electrical booby-trapping, sharp-shooting, and botany.

_Botany? _Toriko raised a mental eyebrow.

_Extremely useful, _Rude assured her.

_…okay. If you say so._

Reno was having the time of his life. When business was slow, he and his adoptive guardian would go out back and wrestle each other to the ground or shoot pigeons from the rooftop. Mrs. Thomas didn't seem to object to those activities—often enough, she brought them breakfast on the roof and watched them shoot, cheering them on.

Until the break-in.

_Who the hell holds up a gun-shop? _Toriko scoffed, almost disbelieving.

Rude was guiltily silent for a moment, then admitted, _People I hire._

_You _hired _people to rob the gun-shop of a fellow Turk and his family._

…_Yes. It was supposed to be a training exercise for Reno. Coryel knew about it in advance and everything. It… it was a freak accident._

Toriko shivered.


	5. Nobody's Business

Nobody's Business But The Turks

------

Reno awoke one night to the sound of breaking glass from downstairs. He sat up and rolled out of his bed, making his footsteps as quiet as possible. He snuck out into the main room, where Coryel was moving toward the stairs with a baseball bat in one hand and a semi-automatic in the other. He nodded to Reno, and they proceeded to the stairs together. Peering around the corner momentarily, Coryel signed to Reno, 'three men guns steal counter one door one shelves one.'

Reno nodded, and took the baseball bat from Coryel's left hand. Coryel stepped into the open and shot the man at the shelves; the shot was prepared and sure—the man went down like a trash bag full of vegetable soup. The bullet struck his spine and stayed. Reno leapt behind the counter with a snarl and proceeded to beat the shit out of the masked man. The man at the door turned, surprised, and hollered profanities. A man came out of the blind spot covered by the stairs and grabbed Coryel from behind, forcing the gun out of his grip and spinning him around, putting his captive between himself and Reno. Coryel slammed his elbow into the man's solar plexus, snapped his head backward into the man's nose, and was about to turn to do more meaningful damage when a gun clicked at his left temple. The man from the door had come to help, rather than staying on watch. Reno stood up with the baseball bat, but stopped when he saw the situation. He dropped behind the counter and rummaged around on the ground—as he had beaten the shit out of the man, he had knocked several boxes of ammo to the ground, and there were guns behind the counter—guns he knew how to use. He quietly picked out one known for accuracy and loaded it, then stood and aimed at the man with the gun.

The man with the gun moved behind Coryel as Reno shouted at him to freeze. The other man still standing recovered, wiping blood from his nose and wheezing. "Put the gun down, kid, or the old man gets it."

"Fuck em up, Reno," Coryel snarled.

"Shut up, grandpa," the man ordered.

"I'll shut up when you suck my cock, you lily-livered crust on the ass of humanity."

Reno aimed carefully over Coryel's shoulder, at the hand and face of the man with the gun; he stilled his hand, and squeezed the trigger.

Bang.

"SHIT." The man's hand exploded into a mess of blood and bone fragment. The gun previously in his hand spun out of the way as it went off. The man's face went the same way as his hand, and he dropped. The shot from his gun ricocheted off the edge of the counter and struck Coryel in the left shoulder. Coryel grabbed his shoulder and bellowed curses, moving out of the way. Reno fired again, narrowly missing the guy with the bloody nose. The remaining man hit the floor, searching frantically for the gun his dead companion had. Reno lowered his aim as Coryel moved out of the way, but pain exploded in the back of his head. His vision swam wildly, and he dropped to his knees.

The man whom Reno had bludgeoned with the bat had recovered his senses and stood over the young man with the weapon in question, pulling back for another strike. Reno turned to look in shock just as the baseball bat descended, colliding with his right cheekbone with a resounding _crack. _ He fell sideways, his head snapping against the counter, then forward, and Reno's memory went black.

_I was there that night, too. _Rude said, clearly feeling guilty. _Coryel had to stop his wife from calling the police. He called me, and he called Shinra's medical staff. I got there first._

_May I--? _Toriko requested.

_By all means._

During the gunfire, the front plate-glass window of the shop had been broken; not shattered, due to the laminate on the glass, but cracked and pockmarked nonetheless. Rude approached carefully, nightstick out and ready. He was confronted by Coryel at the door, who admitted him with an air of defeat.

"They busted up my shop, goddamnit."

"They did what we hired them to do," Rude observed passively. "Shinra will cover the repairs to your business and your medical expenses for your shoulder." He stopped, looking over the thugs on the ground. "Which ones are yours, and which ones are his?"

Coryel pointed to the man at the shelves in the back, then to the man with the bloody nose, then vaguely back at the counter. "Three are mine. Reno shot the one who's missing a face—it was a nearly impossible shot, I didn't think he'd take it, but boy did he fuck them up. Too bad they fucked him up, too."

Rude froze. He hadn't even considered that Reno could be injured in any serious manner. "Where's Reno?"

Coryel pointed vaguely back at the counter again. "Bastard got him with the bat before I could drop him."

Rude nearly tripped over himself in his hurry to get over to Reno. Coryel had turned Reno over and checked for vital signs, but apart from that had administered no care. Rude gently checked his neck for fractures, checked his pulse, then pulled up an eyelid and shone a penlight at him. "Coryel, his eyes aren't dilating at a speed that can be considered anywhere close to normal."

"Yeah, poor boy definitely has a concussion," Coryel clucked. "You'll have to have the Shinra doctors check him out."

Mrs. Thomas was standing at the stairway, distraught but mostly composed. "You didn't even _consider_ that this could have happened, did you?" she bitched them out. "You Turks and your god complex. You and your stupid fucking profession. You almost get this poor boy killed!"

"It appears so," Rude told her calmly. He tucked the penlight back into his suit pocket, then gently lifted Reno. "I'll take him back to Shinra and have him checked out, but he's not coming back here afterwards."

"You're taking him _now_?" Mrs. Thomas shrieked. "He's so young! He's _too _young, you bald bastard, he's just a baby!"

"I'll look after him," he promised emotionlessly. "Thank you, ma'am, for keeping such good care of him while he was here. And you, Coryel."

Coryel shifted his weight to one foot, still putting pressure on his injured shoulder. "Ehh… Rude, he's only sixteen, I think that perhaps—"

"I'll look after him," Rude repeated in a tone that brooked no argument. "I will protect him, you can be sure of that." He stood and walked towards the door. "The company will be along shortly to dispose of the bodies."

Mrs. Thomas chased him out to the car, pummelling him mercilessly with her aged fists. "Put him down, you brute! You bring back my boy! You're either going to get him killed or turn him into a killer! Reno isn't a killer! Reno is a smart, talented young man! He doesn't need you and your stupid company! You shiny-headed freak! He failed your little test. The robbers got him, so he failed, and he can stay here with us!"

Coryel restrained her and nodded to Rude as he drove off.

"And don't _you _try and calm me down, you scheming monster," Rude heard her voice echo down the street.

_Damn, _Toriko said softly. _Why did you take him, if he didn't pass that little test?_

Rude sighed. _The test was only to see what he would do. He kept his cool, but he just didn't pay attention to the details. And I… I was selfish. I wanted Reno close to me, but he wasn't. He was close to Coryel and Tabitha Thomas. I was jealous._

_You cared for him like he was your child, _Toriko wondered.

_Yes and no, _he responded gently. _In a way I still do, but he's grown up so much. He's skilled and able, and he's fucking _brilliant. _I respect him as much as I respect Tseng._

_That's a high compliment._

Reno awoke to a splitting headache, lying in a hospital bed in Shinra headquarters somewhere. He stayed quiet at first; his eyes adjusted to the light, and then he could see two figures at the observation window outside his room— both in dark navy suits, both polished and standing military-straight, talking to each other quietly. One, a tall man from Wutai with long, black hair, seemed to be somewhat annoyed. The other, an even taller man, completely bald, looked as if he was debating an extremely important point. _Hot damn, dawg. Those are Turks. This is a Shinra hospital. I wish Coryel were here, yo, he'd know what to do. Better just lie low and pretend to be unimportant—Turks are a death sentence for sure. That bald guy is so freakin' cool, though._

After a moment, the first man looked over and noticed Reno's wakeful state. He nodded to Reno, then led the other man to the door.

"Good afternoon," the long-haired man greeted emotionlessly. "Your name is Reno, is it not? The young man from sector three?"

Reno shook his head. "My name is Reno, but I haven't lived in sector three for years, yo."

A tiny smile flitted across his lips. "We know. But when we first found out about you, you were from sector three."

"Yeah, I made the papers once," he acknowledged carefully. "Who are you?"

Rude set a case on the side of the bed and began unfastening the latches. Reno watched him carefully, trying to place where he had seen the man before.

"My name is Tseng, and this is Rude. We are Turks under the employ of the Shinra Corporation. For the last few years, Rude has been following your progress and guiding your education, and now he believes you are ready to begin training with us in earnest."

Reno stared mutely at them—Turks? Shinra? Following his progress? "You've been spying on me?"

"Not precisely, but you may use that term, if you wish," Tseng accepted.

Rude opened the case and removed a new black nightstick; he held it out, handle first, to Reno, who eyed it with suspicion.

"What do you want with me?" Reno asked.

"We'd like to offer you a job."

Reno stared at Rude for a long moment, ignoring the nightstick. Rude worked not to let on how nervous he was—did this man remember him? They met under extenuating circumstances, but it was only four years ago, and certainly wasn't in passing.

Slowly, Reno's eyes travelled over the starched white shirt, down the navy-sleeved arm, across the black glove, to the nightstick. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Is that a 'no?'" Tseng raised an eyebrow.

Rude winced. Shinra owned this boy.

_If he didn't become a Turk or agree to enter university and work for the company as a scientist with research and development, he would be killed, _Rude explained to Toriko mentally. _And it would probably have been me to make the hit._

Reno considered, then glanced between the two men. "Can I… Can I talk to this guy alone, yo?"

Tseng studied Reno, then Rude, then nodded once. "Five minutes, tops, then I want an answer." He turned on his heel and went out of the room, closing the door behind him.

"He can read lips," Rude warned him courteously, facing away from the window.

Reno hunched forward slightly, putting Rude between him and Tseng. "Turks? You all want me to be a Turk?"

"Not right away. You'll be trained in several forms of combat, explosives, trap-rigging, bodyguard tactics, guerrilla tactics, crowd-control methods, the use of weapons from the knife to the rapier to the bazooka, poisons, hacking, corporate infiltration, first aide and field medicine, and the proper procedures for our paperwork system. Oh, and how to drive."

Reno shook his head, scattering his red hair everywhere. "I know most of that already, that doesn't sound too hard. Um… I guess I won't be living with Coryel and Tabitha, though."

"We'll provide you with an apartment during your training, and you'll be able to support yourself once you're on the payroll."

"I uh… I… wow…" Reno shook his head again. "Every time I end up in a hospital, weird shit happens, yo."

Rude chuckled in spite of himself.

"You _do _smile… I thought you were just some sort of soldier. Alright, I…" Reno crinkled his eyebrows together. His memory allowed both the Rude of the present time and Toriko to experience the wave of fear as a realization washed over Reno. _If they don't employ me, they'll kill me_

Toriko's eyebrows would have raised, if mentally they could_. He knew. _

_I didn't know he knew, _Rude thought, chagrined.

After a long moment, Rude pulled his glasses up to rest on his forehead, and made direct eye-contact with Reno. "This is going to be difficult. This is going to be scary. This is going to take every ounce of spirit you have. This job will try to take everything you love, everything you own, and eventually everything you are, but I believe that you are stronger than that. This job will provide you protection, a place to hide, a roof over your head and clothes on your back." Rude lowered his voice to barely above a whisper. "This job will provide you with a family and true friends." He offered his right hand to Reno.

Reno gazed up at Rude pensively, his heart twisting at the mention of family. "Family?"

"You'll have me. Right now that's all I can promise. Eventually, Tseng will trust you, too. We'll _always_ look after you. The Turks take care of their own."

Tentatively, almost timidly, Reno placed his hand in Rude's larger hand, then squeezed it and gave it a good shake. Rude stepped back to show the handshake to Tseng; Reno turned and gazed at Tseng meaningfully, then looked back up at Rude. "I'm in, yo."

Tseng re-entered the room as Rude stepped back to make room for him in the conversational bubble. "You'll receive a uniform and keys to an apartment upon your discharge from the hospital. Proceed to your apartment—there, you will find all the supplies you may need during your training, and you will be provided a stipend for anything else you may wish to purchase. On the desk in your study, there will be a day planner with notes about your training schedule, a map of the training sites, and information about how to contact Rude or myself in case of any additional questions. Wear your uniform to all training functions. Keep it in good condition, and keep your shoes shined. While we will not require you to cut your hair, I would advise that you find some way to keep it out of your face. Especially during combat training. You will spend the next twenty-four hours in the hospital for observation due to your head injury, then you will have a week of written and computer study before you are expected to be back on your feet and free from the influences of any medication these people may have you on." Tseng gave him a respectful half-bow. "See you in a week." He turned on his heel to leave.

Reno bobbed his head politely as Tseng left, and gave Rude a lingering stare as he followed. _What have I done?_

Toriko gently released Rude's hand.

Rude sat on the ground, staring at Reno for a long moment, before looking to her. "Thank you, Toriko."

She looked far more uneasy than Rude. "I didn't expect… all of that."

"I wish I could say I was surprised by any of it, but…" he trailed off elliptically.

Toriko leaned over and hugged Reno's slumbering form—his mouth tipped up slightly in a fond smile. After remaining there for a moment, she straightened and stood up. "Now I know why he's so protective of me. Father must be like a walking nightmare for him."

"He is for a lot of people," Rude pointed out.

She bowed her head. _I don't want to be that scary._

_You don't have to be,_ a familiar but irate voice replied. _But don't go poking around in other people's minds, Toriko. How would you like it if someone did that to you?_

Toriko jumped a couple inches. _Well, apparently you just did if you know what I was doing!_

_…Touché. Get to breakfast._

_Yes, father. _She bowed to Rude politely. "Thank you, Rude. And when Reno wakes up, tell him I'm okay. Tell him… if anything happens to me, I'll come right to him."

"Tell him yourself, yo," a familiar but hoarse voice called to her from the pile of blankets. Reno had his eyes cracked open and a half-hearted smirk plastered on his face.

Toriko blushed furiously, then nodded. "Reno, thank you for being protective of me."

He rolled his eyes, waving away the gratitude. "No worries, no worries. Just… take care of yourself. And… Toriko?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you for caring."

The gentle look to his eyes told her there was no sarcasm nor malice in the statement. She smiled back and hurried out of the room. "I'm going down to breakfast. I'll see you both later."

As she slid the door shut and pattered down the hall, she pondered the strange feeling in her chest—almost as if a warm, fuzzy, squiggly little caterpillar had curled up in her heart, then decided to get up and do a flamenco dance. She skidded to a stop and stared in open-mouthed, unabashed shock for a moment.

_I can't have a crush on Reno! Eww!_


End file.
